


set the pace (wanna do you right)

by inattention



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Choking, Handcuffs, IM DYING HERE, M/M, Oral Sex, and heels, i just got lazy, long distance kinda, no actual penetration but osamu gets railed ok, osamu in a skirt, osamu is called a pretty slut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:54:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27352315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inattention/pseuds/inattention
Summary: “You asked me to hold you down and cuff you.” Suna reminds him, leaning forward to grasp his jaw solidly with his slender fingers, and watching as Osamu’s eyes go unfocused and his breath hitches.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	set the pace (wanna do you right)

**Author's Note:**

> this is porn i couldn't write the rest of so here you go bc im sick of staring at it now

“Doll, do me a favor and stop squirming so much,” Suna requests, his voice smooth and even the way he knows Osamu likes, even as he was straddling him and attempting to handcuff his wrists to the headboard.

“It’s ‘cause you’re so heavy,” the man in question complains, his voice trailing off into a childish whine. Suna blinks before heaving out a huge sigh, turning the intensity of his gaze towards Osamu, abandoning the cuffs in favor of narrowing his eyes at him icily.

“You asked me to hold you down and cuff you.” Suna reminds him, leaning forward to grasp his jaw solidly with his slender fingers, and watching as Osamu’s eyes go unfocused and his breath hitches.

 _So sensitive,_ he thinks. _Pretty baby, so easy to please._

“I’m going to need you to cooperate, Miya,” Suna goes on as he flashes him the smallest of smiles, a razor sharp hint of a threat. “Keep still for me, why don’t you?”

Osamu lets the words wash over him as he nuzzles into the hand holding his jaw, letting out a shuddering breath as his pupils dilate.

He turns electric under Suna’s judgmental eyes—rejoices in feeling small and scolded. He’s always told him that it was an invigorating feeling—one he wasn’t sure why he liked—but it was a rush that he couldn’t get from anyone that wasn’t Suna.

“You're no fun like this,” he croaks out valiantly.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Suna muses. He pushes his leg in between Osamu’s thighs, brushing his knee against his dick, still in his boxers. He grits his teeth as Suna leans forward and tightens his grip on Osamu’s chin as his mouth falls open in a silent gasp and he bucks his hips up against Rintarou. “You’ve never been very honest about things in bed.”

Osamu flushes and doesn’t say anything more as he obeys, slowly ceasing in his struggling. Suna ignores the comment and makes a pleased sound, letting go of him to click the handcuffs close.

“That’s my good boy,” he murmurs, hand moving towards Osamu’s hair this time to run his fingers through it, watching as the man under him burns under his attention, already gyrating his hips against Suna’s ass in a misguided attempt for more friction.

Osamu is a sight to behold like this: cheeks pink and flushed, mouth agape, broad chest heaving against the white button down he’s wearing. The real kicker is this—the pleated black skirt with white trim around his hips and the thigh highs finished off with the strappy three-inch black heels.

“My spoiled darling,” he tells him with chastising affection, smiling when Osamu lets out another whine, pushing his head against Suna’s head like a dog in a bid for him to touch him a little bit more, “you’re the prettiest fucking whore there is, you know that?”

At the praise, he shivers, looking up at him with wide eyes, and opening his mouth, his tongue rolling out obediently and Suna takes mercy on him, shoving two fingers into the wet heat as Osamu wraps his lips around them instinctively, desperate for anything Suna is willing to give him, and he moans around his fingers in his mouth.

“Look at you, all eager,” Suna notes, “how long has it been since you last got off?”

He knows, he already knows. The moments that they met up were rare and far between; he knows that Osamu is busy out of his mind even if he enjoys his work immensely, knows that he’s worked up, knows that he’s been waiting for him to come home so he can rail him.

He will. Just in a little bit.

Osamu has patience in spades—until he doesn’t. He’d through the lunch and the ride home with little complaint—well, until he’d begged him to get it over with on the doorstep.

Suna’s always had trouble refusing anything he asked.

“Come on,” Osamu gasps out, already so needy from the hand stroking through his hair, “kiss me, fuck me, anythin’, do anythin’ at all and I’ll be happy with it.”

He smiles, setting down his palm over Osamu’s thigh and traveling upwards, taking his time as he relearns every curve and bend of his body.

“Ah, Miya-san is in a good mood,” he hums. Osamu glares at him. “What? You don’t like when I call you that?”

“You’re so noisy when you’re excited.” Osamu tells him, eyebrows furrowed.

He pulls down Osamu’s sweats, releasing his cock, and mouths at it for a few seconds, testing the waters, before he wraps his lips around it properly, his hand squeezing around the rest of it where his mouth can’t reach. Osamu closes his eyes as Suna’s mouth engulfs him in heat, and he starts to suck, tongue darting out to lick at the underside, the feeling of it heavy and pulsing in his mouth.

Suna has always loved sucking Osamu’s dick. He could come from just sucking him off, if prompted enough, but tonight’s not about that. Today’s about turning Osamu to mush.

He lets Osamu’s dick slip out of his mouth, “Hey, love, look at me.”

It takes a while before his lover answers, but that's alright. Suna decides to kiss up his thigh while he waits.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck my mouth,” he orders, which makes Osamu curse as Suna takes him into his mouth again, and his hips buck up almost on instinct. Straining against his bonds, he does just that - knows what Suna likes obviously, because he just forces himself down Suna's throat, groaning as he almost chokes, tears gathering at the base of his eyes.

It's amazing, until Suna takes him deep and then with one last sloppy suck, he wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pulls away, lips still shiny with spit.

“Let me come,” Osamu tries to demand, but Suna only licks his lips and blows him a teasing kiss. Osamu’s eyes glisten with tears of frustration. “That’s mean. You’re mean.”

Osamu is too worked up to care about taking it slow and struggles against the constraints. Suna’s fingers find their way around his throat, pressing, pressing, but still feather light. He watches as Osamu shudders.

“Color, baby?” he asks, keeping his voice neutral.

At the realization of what he’s asking, Osamu’s eyes widen in anticipation. “Green,” he spits out, and that’s all it takes for him to start.

“Good boy. Let me get the condoms.”

“Ditch ‘em,” Osamu says. “Fuck me.”

“I still need to prep you, love.”

Osamu’s eyes meet his, “No, y’don’t.”

Suna stills, pursing his lips. “What do you mean?”

Osamu’s cheeks color in shame and he looks away. “I mean, I fucked myself in the restaurant bathroom thinking of you, so you better rail me good to make up for how long you're making me wait.”

Suna pauses. Turns the words over in his head. When it finally clicks, he catches Osamu's eyes and his lips curl into a slow, smug smirk.

"Sure, baby. Whatever the sweet little slut wants."


End file.
